


Due Honour

by fawatson



Category: The Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikeratos is haunted after the sack of Syracuse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Due Honour

**Author's Note:**

> **Oriinally Posted to:** maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal  
>  **Originally Written for:** Spooky Challenge 2014  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.  
>  **Author’s Note:** (1) In chpt 22, Nikeratos describes his production of Aeschylos’ _The Persians_ in Syracuse as “a bad production. I had not given my mind to it, and was off form myself.” (2) Artemis was (amongst other things) goddess of the hunt and virginity. Her symbols were the golden bow and arrow, the hunting dog, the stag, and the moon. She was born on Delos. Eos was the goddess of the dawn. Dionysos was (amongst other things) god of the theatre and religious ecstasy.

Due Honour

I knew well this was not likely to be the best rendition of _The Persians_. Menekrates was my second and while he was a competent actor when he had his mind on it, he was truly in no fit state now. But then, as you know, I had not given him the role because of his acting abilities. It would be as it would be: sufficient (as one must not short the gods) but not inspired. I had known that throughout the rehearsals. In the end, however, notwithstanding the audience’s ovation (largely due to Menekrates’ mediocre but emotional rendition, which rang a bell with the citizens of Syracuse), it was not even that. 

Any actor who stays long in the trade, learns the trick of sleeping soundly the night before a performance. I was no greenhorn to toss and turn, to rise up at midnight in excitement for the next day, or to let his mind play tricks on him, or brood over lines into the wee hours. But this night all my usual tricks played me false. It is no wonder really; who am I to cross a goddess’s will and expect to prevail? 

I woke in cold sweat, panting with fear from dream of pursuit, pierced in several places by arrows. Out the window, Artemis’ pale glow mocked me. After a time I slept, fitfully though, as a herd of deer chased me hither and yon. Truly their actions seemed more wolf than deer, regardless of their shape. I woke again, yelling as the antlers of a stag pierced my breast. Through my window, Artemis smirked. I rose and poured myself a cup of wine, taking care to make libation to her shining beauty, before I supped and lay down again. Eventually I drifted asleep but a third time found my dreams invaded by terrors as seven bitches and six dogs bayed and snapped at my heels. This last time I did not wake – much though I would have wished to – until Artemis had given way to rosy-fingered Eos. 

I woke, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Small wonder I could not give my mind to the performance and was off form. The night Syracuse was sacked I had thought only to save Axiothea and myself . Our passion had been our offering to Dionysos (given, as it was in the theatre, in a most fitting place). But in our honour to _him_ , I now realised I had forgotten to propitiate _her_ for Axiothea’s virgin sacrifice. Now _she_ stole my energy rendering my interpretations of Darius’ Ghost and the Messenger unfit to offer any god. Truly I was the one receiving the message this time, not delivering it. 

On my return to Athens, I, of course, sought out Axiothea, and was relieved when she confirmed I had not got her with child. She had turned to her studies for comfort; it seemed Artemis had truly lost her handmaiden, as Axiothea now paid full devotions to Athene. My duty was clear: the next day I commissioned a silver statue of a stag to be sent to the sanctuary at Delos. And never again, in my prayers and libations to Apollo, did I forget to offer due honour to his twin.


End file.
